


Return the Favor

by DarthSuki



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: DFAB reader, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, F/M, M/M, Masturbation, Semi-Public Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-14 04:11:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17501315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthSuki/pseuds/DarthSuki
Summary: StrexCorp has cameras situated in almost every room of every building, in order to keep an eye on their employees. When the camera in the recording booth had gone down, Kevin took the chance to tease you. Now that the camera in the editing room is down, you decide that it's only fair to return the favor.Companion fic to'Out For Repairs'





	Return the Favor

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sorta-kinda companion to the work ['Out For Repairs'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17409377) though both of these are just little smut fics--you don't have to read one to understand the other!

Honestly, you don’t know where you got the courage for this. Maybe all you needed was the privacy, the freedom to let your brain take the risk--maybe all you needed was a little thirst simmering under your skin or even the simple thought in your mind to do it.

None of the reasons behind it even matter anymore; you’re already propped up in the chair of the editing room, your eyes looking through the glass window separating it from the recording booth. You watch in soft, lazy, euphoric amusement as Kevin hardly realizes what’s going on behind him. He probably thinks you’re still out doing errands, checking in on a news story with the opening of the new high-interest payday loan building.

Little does he know that you’ve already finished all of it with plenty of time to spare. Time that you can use to your liking, without him noticing the act until the very moment you decide on it--and the power is already intoxicating.

It doesn’t take much to settle yourself. The chair is as high as it can go, enough so that you can lay your ankles out, legs spread, over the top of the editing station. You can see the softest reflection of yourself through the glass, the way your skirt falls back from the angle of your legs and exposes you so perfectly.

Of course, you weren’t wearing any underwear.

For a few minutes, you take your time to work yourself up--there’s no need to rush, after all, you have more than enough personal minutes to enjoy the experience. You wanted to give Kevin every little reason to feel  _hunger_ when he’d ultimately see you, catch you with your legs open and your hand between them, stroking lazy circles over your sensitive flesh and biting your lower lip through moans he could only imagine than hear through the thick glass window.

Fingertips moved with experience, knowing exactly the motions, the speed, the techniques best to work you over and loosen your muscles. There’s almost a delight in watching Kevin broadcast without the mildest inkling of what was going on in the next room over.

Or maybe he does--you’re not quite certain on his level of omnipotence, unlike his counterpart in the next town over. He doesn’t turn around regardless, leaving you to enjoy the moment in blissful, personal intimacy, to work yourself up to not-quite climax again and again--

But after the third time, you finally decide to let the radio host in on your little secret.

> [12:35 p.m.]  _You: I know you’re in the middle of your broadcast, but you should turn around ;)_

There’s a shiver of delight that runs through you when, as you drop the phone from your eyes, you can see Kevin’s own light up from where it’s laid upon his desk. You can see his head turn slightly, knowing that he’s focusing more on his broadcast--but you like to imagine that his train of thought shifts entirely when he sees the name over the screen.

He reaches for the phone, unlocks it, then looks over the text. You wonder if he’s confused at all from the message, if he’s wondering if it’s some sort of silly joke.

Kevin stares at the phone screen for but a breath longer before finally turning his chair around-

-and locking eyes with you.

You can  _feel_  as much as see the dark shadow that makes up the spots where his eyes should be. You can feel the gaze like a pressure over your entire body, feel as it lingers on your eyes, then slowly shifts down to-

_Oh._

Kevin’s expression changes completely as he takes in the visual image of what you’re doing, what you’ve  _been doing_  without him even realizing it.

You offer the man a cheeky grin and, with one hand, you type out another message.

> _[12:36 p.m.] You: I thought it would be nice to unwind a little since the editing room camera is...out for repairs <3 _
> 
> __[12:36 p.m.] You:_  feel free to join me after your broadcast is done_

You watched in lazy enjoyment as Kevin almost fumbled for his vibrating phone, barely taking the time to look away from you as he glanced through both messages. He must have put on a sponsorship ad, since you don’t see him continuing the broadcast--did he put one on when he went to read your original text?

He stares at you with a heat in his hollow eyes, a delicious, possessive sort of heat that you’ve grown familiar with. You can feel that gaze on your body, all over, lingering on the way your legs shake with every careful thrust of your fingers, on the way your body opens up around those digits--you can see him sit there, as still as a statue, and merely watch your motions for several long, heavy moments.

You can practically feel his gaze linger between your legs, watching how your digits sink into yourself over, and over again.

He only just began his broadcast not ten minutes ago; it’s too soon to go to the weather and far, far too soon to end it. Regardless of what desires were simmering in Kevin’s lust-addled thoughts, there is nothing he can do but  _watch_  as you fuck yourself silly with experienced fingers and a smile on your lips.

And it  _infuriates_  him. It’s not an anger towards you, not in the slightest, but it’s a genuine rush of anger all the same--something kept out of his reach, something he wants but cannot have; it’s surely the easiest way to play into the man’s obsessive need for control and power in what little, few avenues he can have it.

For you and certainly in this moment, it translates only to desperate, starving lust. 

You notice a clench of Kevin’s jaw as he finally whirls back around in his chair, one hand pulling almost aggressively through his hair while the other one tapped a quick message on his phone.

> ___[12:38 p.m.] Kevin: Fuck yourself nice and open on those fingers, dearest._ _ _

And then, not even a moment later, there was a second message blinking on the screen of your phone.

> ____[12:38 p.m.] Kevin:_  because I am going to fuck you over that console the moment this broadcast is over._ _ _

Excitement bubbles in your stomach as you read the words over, causing but a soft moan to escape your lips. There’s such a distinct sense of possessiveness in Kevin’s message, a danger all of your own that you can’t help but love. 

> ____[12:39 p.m.] You:_  make sure you keep your promise, because i’m aching to get filled up by something. would be a shame to finish before your broadcast does ;P_ _ _

The way he’ll hold you, pin you down, fuck you on the damn floor if he must--memories of similar times leave you shivering in the chair, restraining yourself from falling over the edge with every press of your fingers inside of your warm, tight heat.

Oh, it’s nice to have a little bit of control. Even if the control is simply in keeping something just out of Kevin’s reach, it makes you feel positively drunk on it, able to push all of the right buttons that will surely, definitely,  _beautifully_  leave you fucked silly and claimed with kiss-shaped bruises before the night is over.

Even as you close your eyes and let your head fall back into the chair, you can still occasionally feel those hollow eyes on you. 

Watching you obsessively.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a request made on my WTNV writing blog. If you would like to submit a request or check out my other related work, [go check it out here!](https://wtnvwritings.tumblr.com/)


End file.
